Untitled
by Kalinerst
Summary: Shh! This actually isn't a fanfiction. Its actually a sotry I wrote myself. Here's the beginning. I wiil continue it if it's any good.


**Alayah **

I had a way of drawing people in with my voice, of letting them feel what I was feeling, to believe what I believed. It was a gift, something that our family had carried with them, my dad had said. For the millionth time, I wondered if it wasn't a curse instead. For the past five years of my life I had been shuffled from place to place, I had been stalked, I put up with long hours, all because of this "gift".

"Alayah! You're on.", a voice whispered to me.

I sighed inwardly. As I walked on stage and right up to the mic. I closed my eyes and forced myself to relax, to forget my anger with my mother, to just focus on letting go. There is that moment when you get in front of people and the world just stops. Right after people realize your on stage and right before you sing your first note. Its that moment I love the best. Its the moment that I relax and I know that this is what I was meant to do. I was meant to sing. This is the time when I remember how lucky I am to be able to do what I love and get recognized for it. I slowly open my eyes and take in the sea of faces in front of me. And then the music hits. And I sing.

Sometimes when I sing, I lose all sense of time. I feel or hear or think of nothing but the music, nothing but the feelings behind the song. I used to be able to relax in to that mode, but lately I've been distracted. I haven't been able to fall into the zone unless my mood matches the song. The song still turns out great, but its different. Jake, my stepfather and producer, says I become just another singer, instead of something more. I didn't know what he meant for the longest time, until he played back one of my tracks to me. I just sound so dead, mechanical almost. I hit all the right notes with the right emotion, but it was just missing the magic. The magic that made me better than anyone else, he explained. Unfortunately, its been happening a lot lately. And although my last album went platinum, Jake was less than pleased, which meant things have been pretty stressful.

I finished the song perfectly, like always, but grimaced inwardly. It was just another song, as Jake would say. I smiled at the cheering crowd as the talk show host walked over to me.

"That was amazing," She grinned at me. I couldn't get over how fake people in Hollywood were; I just wanted to smack her and tell her to be real, but instead I grinned back. She turned to the camera and began to speak "That was Alayah's new single, 'Just Can't Forget'..."

I zoned out as she talked and had to keep myself from jumping when she looked at me when her piercing gaze. "What?" I said as I blushed, embarrassed to be caught not listening.

"Hmm.. I think that says it all," she laughed as she spoke to the camera. I was puzzled, but I kept my confusion underwraps. "Another thing we've all been wondering about is the whole good girl gone bad thing. You definitely do not have the same image you did a three years ago when you came out."

I shrugged. "We all have to grow up sometime, and express ourselves," I started. "It's not that I am no longer the girl you knew before. It's more like I am an older more experienced version." I gave the camera a small wink at that.

To anyone who compared my first two albums to the last one, the differences were quite clear. It was my step-dad's idea. He had insisted that the new angle would bring a new fan base as well as keep people from realizing that I had lost that sparkle in my voice. I was completely opposed to the idea. The skimpy outfits and suggestive lyrics didn't feel right to me. How could I sing about all those things when I had yet to receive my first kiss. (The ones in the music videos and movies totally didn't count!) But of course, my stepfather got his way, once again, and me, being the entertainer that I was, was able to deliver the deception to perfection.

I answered a few more questions about my life and my music before the interview was over.

As I walked off the platform, I was met by Veronica, my personal assistant. "Let's go." She said to me as she saw my dragging feet. You have to start moving a little quicker in order to catch your plane." I rolled my eyes and searched for some food. I was starved.

"Can we grab something to eat first?" I asked, "I'm starved and we haven't had anything other than crackers since this morning."

"What about the diet?" she asked me, eyebrows raised. My mom had decided that her size 8 frame was way to big, and as such had decided that the whole family go on a mandatory diet with her. For support, she insisted. I think she just wanted everyone else to go through the misery with her.

"We just wont tell them." I rolled my eyes and gave that perfect smile that I was always complimented about in the magazines. "Please, please..."

"Okay, Okay." She agreed. Veronica had been my assistant for three years, ever since I'd been in the business. She was my best friend and I had her pretty much wrapped around my

finger. "Only if," she continued, "you tell me about Chase Meyers.." she smiled at me smugly.

"Chase Meyers?" as asked quizzically. He was one of the new breakout stars. His album had nearly topped mine for number one last year. Jake was absolutely livid whenever his name came up. He was my competition, the one I had nearly lost the throne to. He had sat me down and yelled for almost an hour about it. "Why would I know anything about him?"

"Oh, don't even give me that," Veronica said as she gave me a knowing look. I grabbed my purse and we both headed out into the limo waiting outside. "The airport please," she said as she stepped in. I followed her. She looked at me as we got settled, "Why didn't you tell me you were interested in Chase?"

I looked at her in shock. "Interested in Chase?" I laughed. "What gave you that idea?"

"Well, maybe the fact that you blushed and looked shocked when Claire asked you about him in that interview."

"Wait, I don't remember that..." I started.

"Oh please," Veronica said laughing at my bewildered face. "I'm sure you don't.. Who would have thought, you having a crush. It's cute."

"I don't." I started, but gave up when I realized she had already started reading another one of those self-help books she was always carrying around. I groaned and relaxed into my chair. Jake would be infuriated. I really don't know how I'm gonna get out of this one. _At least the both of them are in Paris for the week, _I thought optimistically.

Thee two of them had agreed, albeit grudgingly to allow me relax after the next album comes out. I was excited. It was hard to imagine a life without concerts, recording, movies, photo shoots, and interviews. A chance to just be myself, by myself. I put on my headphones and zoned out to some classical music. The waves of different instruments always made me sleepy.

**Ian **

"Wake up! Time for work!" I called to my mother. I heard her groan from behind the door. I rolled my eyes as I made my way to the kitchen to start breakfast. I liked to get up early; it allowed me to get up in time to fix everything. I liked everything in its place. I wasn't OCD, not at all, I could survive anywhere, but I just felt that if you had the ability to create order, why not? I looked at everything that way. Everything had an order to it, it was just a matter of figuring out what it was. Needless to say, I was pretty good at math.

After sitting down to a quick meal of pancakes, I grabbed my backpack and started out the door. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my mother racing down the stairs. Her hair dark brown hair was falling out of the bun she had hastily tried to put up, and her blue eyes were searching around frantically.

"You left your briefcase beside the computer desk." She gave me a thankful smile.

"I'm gonna be late. I have a client coming in at 7:00," she sighed. She was always late. Her and my older sister were alike in that regard—forgetful and completely disorganized. I honestly didn't know how she manages to be a lawyer and remember all those facts when she can't even remember where she put her toothbrush.

I shook my head, "You should have woken up the first time I called you."

"I know, mister," she said walking over to me and attempting to muss up my hair.

"Hey!" I said walking out the door, "Just cause your hair looks crazy doesn't mean mine should to."

"It does not," she said indignantly before turning and running to the bathroom to check. I chuckled as I heard her curse in the bathroom. I closed the door behind me.

It was a nice day. _A wonderful day to turn 18._ I thought to myself. As I jumped into my car and drove away, I noticed that, once again, Dad didn't come home from the work. He was a surgeon, and was often on some emergency call to the hospital. Most of the time, my mom, sister, and I didn't really see him. And, for the most part, I didn't really care. Whenever he was around, I always felt uneasy, as if he were inspecting me, waiting for something to happen.

I asked my older sister about it once; she looked at me like I was crazy. She had a perfect relationship with my dad. In fact, it was really weird. She and him were completely opposites, much like him and my mother. Me and my father were completely alike in almost every way. We were both neat freaks. We were both extremely smart, both had photographic memories, were both extremely perceptive, and always on time. However, we never got along. It seemed like we were always fighting about something. No matter what I did, I was a disappointment. I wasn't athletic enough, not pensive enough, not social enough. I didn't even know what I did half the time.

I sighed. I was at the school already. I didn't even remember the trip. I liked those moments that you lose all sense of time. Its almost like you are on autopilot. You are thinking and acting, and yet you're not. You're brain is somewhere else completely.

I looked around the lot. Hummel College Prep School is full the elite Los Angeles over-achievers, much like those elite east-coast boarding schools, except with the baked in tans, actors children, and blond hair galore. Despite all the hype, it was a very good school that demanded the best out of most of the students. I never had much of a problem though. I just naturally understood things, and my excellent memory skills didn't hurt either.

A loud thumping noise grabbed my attention.

"Ian!" My friend, James shouts through the open passenger's side window. I turn quickly to see him laughing at my startled look. I rolled my eyes at his antics. James ran a hand through his short dirty blond hair and grinned at me. "Hey birthday boy!"

"Hey yourself," I grinned back. James and I had been best friends since we were really young—second grade at least. He had always been the practical joker. The lighter side to my overly serious self, my mother once commented. He attended the local public school. He neither had the cash nor the drive to get in to Hummel. Nevertheless, we were still the best friends, and he often made it a point to convince me to sneak off campus with him for lunch.

"So I was thinking that we ditch school for the day. I mean it's not everyday a boy becomes a legal adult. Besides its not like, you're grade are in any trouble."

I shook my head. I should have known he'd want to skip. I stepped out of the car. "School just started a couple of days ago. I really don't want to get behind."

"Aww come on," he insisted, "You're way to uptight about this stuff. Just chill, you're a genius anyway, have fun for once. You owe it to yourself."

"I-" I started to dismiss him again, before thinking to myself, _Why not? I do well in school and am organized, why not take a day to be irresponsible. _I had never admitted it, but I had always envied James' carefree attitude. _Just letting go wouldn't be that bad of an idea would it? _I nodded to him and ducked back into my car, "Let's go."


End file.
